Updated on 02-05-16 after a Grammarly run through.

Title: Ice

Author: Armitage 374

Summary: Illidan, after his final battle with Arthas, contemplates his life, his love and his darkness.

Disclaimer;

Warcraft 3, Warcraft Frozen Throne and World of Warcraft(as much as I can get away with but most likely AU after the Lich King expansion) including my poor Illidan and Kael, unfortunately, belongs to

those evil beings known as Blizzard Entertainment. The original story line and characters are all mine though.

A/N:

okkkkieee... I really, really shouldn't be doing this. Especially since I've got at least 5 other fan fictions from various universes going on and haven't finished playing "Frozen Throne" OR "Warcraft 3" yet...But I can't help it.

I'm not really sure why, but since Illidan showed up on my screen I can't help wondering about his story, his past.

So I decided to give it a try... A small warning: I'm putting this up as a PG13 for now, but the rating may rise due to violence.

The history is ONLY Warcraft 3 based. -ETA June 2010: I have since then started to play WoW and really don't like the direction they have taken Illidan and poor Kael in, but I'm most likely going to include several locations and characters in the upcoming chapters. Currently waiting for the Cataclysm expansion due to the extensive changes they are planning, though - Hope you enjoy...

The cold was slowly seeping through his body. He was used to the cold and it didn't bother him much normally, but this particularly kind of coldness scared him. He was dying. And he bloody well knew it.

The cold slowly making it's way to the very core of his being was a weird one. It wasn't like the cold of those thousands of years spend underground. Nor was it the cold of the arctic surroundings, which he was currently dragging his broken, bleeding body through. It felt more like the cold which had permanently lodged itself in a tiny, but significant part of his once heart and was now spreading through his very being with the same speed as his blood left his body.

He could remember a time before that splinter of cold. A time when cold was nothing more than a slight nuisance to the yearly rest of nature, a nuisance which one could easily block by four walls and a roof. A sarcastic smirk showed on his face for a fraction of a second, barely noticeable in the whiteout of the falling snow. Off cause that had been before he had known the true workings of the world, back when he had still been an innocent child.

And look at him now: All his plans splintered liked fragile ice thrown against a mountain wall. He, who had been named the Betrayer, had been betrayed himself.

The cold was getting more pronounced now. He had given up on moving somewhere along his train of thought. A memory simmered just beyond reach. Something about sunny days, laughing children and a city more stunning than anything else in this world.

"Catch me if you can!"

"Tyrande! That's not fair!"

TBC...

Just call me evil if you want to, but remember to review!